


Avocado On Toast

by lettersbyelise



Series: Prompt Fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Prompt Fic, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 14:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersbyelise/pseuds/lettersbyelise
Summary: Draco isobsessedwith avocado on toast.Harryhatesavocado on toast.There's no accounting for taste, now, is there?





	Avocado On Toast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buttfuckinglarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttfuckinglarry/gifts).



> Based on a **prompt** by [buttfuckinglarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttfuckinglarry): Drarry AU where Draco fucking loves his avocado toast and Harry is always mocking him for it because it looks nasty
> 
> Many thanks to [Erin_Riwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erin_Riwen) and [MaesterChill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaesterChill) for their beta and general loveliness <3

The first time Draco ate avocado on toast was the time Harry realised he couldn't go another minute without kissing him.

“For fuck’s sake, not another place serving that hipster horror,” Harry had muttered, going through the menu of the little sandwich shop they sometimes grabbed lunch at when their Auror training allowed.  Of course Draco had wanted to try it. He was nothing if not a contrary git.   
  
When the waitress had left the plate in front of him — mashed avocado, crushed pistachios and fresh sprouts of coriander, thirteen shades of green — he had smirked knowingly at Harry. “I see. You're just jealous they don't make these in  _ red, _ Potter.”   


His eyes had rolled back when he'd taken that first bite, his endearingly crooked teeth closing around the toast, his lips sucking lightly at the spread. “Ummmphf,” he had sighed around his mouthful, and Harry's stomach had dropped in the most wonderfully alarming way.

He'd kissed Draco when they'd walked out of the shop. Draco had smiled triumphantly against his lips.

 

 

“That revolting thing again,” Harry groaned over Draco's shoulder. He pressed close, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist, leaning his chin on his shoulder. It was everything he loved: the soft cotton of Draco’s faded grey t-shirt, the barefoot quiet of a sleepy Sunday morning. The little pocket of sunshine they were building together in their little flat just off Diagon Alley, away from prying eyes.    


From here, he could feel Draco’s smile, the way his whole body relaxed against his. All except his right shoulder and arm, mashing the avocado in a bowl, smearing the white porcelain with the muddy creaminess of it.   


“Ugh,” Harry said again, just to snap Draco out of his focus.   


“Good morning to you too, Potter. And stop your disgusted antics. Avocado on toast is  _ healthy. _ It’s good for you, you know.”   


“I'm pretty sure it’s  _ not. _ Luna told me-”   


“Let me guess. Luna told you avocados make Snargaluffs burst out of your bum, didn't she?”

Harry giggled into his shoulder. “She could have.”

Draco squeezed a few drops of lemon onto the mixture, pale liquid running down his even paler fingers.

Harry took his hand in his, lifted Draco’s fingers to his mouth, sucked them in, licking the sweet, tart juice from his skin.

With some satisfaction, he felt Draco catch his breath. “Potter.” His voice quivered slightly. He placed the fork next to the bowl with careful, trembling fingers. He turned in Harry’s embrace and faced him, a playful glint in his grey eyes. “You greedy,  _ greedy  _ man. Didn’t I fuck you to completion three times last night?”

“That was last night,” Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “Today is a new day.”

“If this is just a way to distract me from my avocado on toast, Harry, I swear-”

With a mischievous grin, Harry dropped to his knees, never looking away from Draco’s face. That morning, Draco never carried out his threats.

 

 

The truth was, Harry loved Draco.

He’d known for a while. He’d known since their first kiss, probably. He’d known since Draco had given him his Hogwarts scarf, a deep, dark shade of green strewn with strands of silver, on the pretext that he just had to do  _ something  _ to stop the dangerous invasion of Gryffindor red in his life. He’d known since Draco had opened the first box of his things, the day they’d moved into their shared flat, and filled an entire bookshelf with Potions books with a flick of his wand.

He had known for so long, but he had never told him.

Somehow, he doubted Draco was the kind of person who needed sterile, overused words of romance to validate their relationship.  They didn’t seem sterile to Harry. Yet accepting that he’d never hear those words from Draco, prickly, proud, amazing Draco, was a small price to pay, all in all, for being with the love of his life.

He dropped the grocery bags onto the kitchen table. Draco tsked, looking up from his cup of tea and the report he was reading.

“Not on the table again!” He rose, irritatedly grabbing one of the bags. “Who knows where these have been? To think you just leave them where we sit and eat.”

Harry laughed. “You weren’t so picky when I bent you over the table last weekend. And the grocery bags were just there.”

Draco glared, fighting between exasperation and mirth. “Fucking prat.”

“And proud of it,” Harry sat and watched Draco unpack the shopping. That was their little weekend routine. Harry went down to the shops, brought the shopping home, then Draco put everything in its place with a few elegant  _ Wingardium Leviosa _ s, the two of them bickering all the way.

So Harry didn’t expect it when Draco stopped short, a net of avocados in one hand, a loaf of bread wrapped in plastic in another. His eyes were wet and shining.

“You bought me avocado and toast,” he said, choked.

Alarmed, Harry stood. “Er, yes. You do love that disgusting crap… don’t you?”

“You never bought it for me before.”

Harry wrapped him tentatively in his arms. “Is it… not okay?”

“You bought it for me even though you hate it,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s shoulder.

“I don’t hate it,” Harry said. “Sure, I don’t  _ love  _ it, but… I love. Er, I love... making fun of you... for it.”

Draco lifted his head. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Harry’s heart was beating far too fast for a Saturday morning. “Because… you love… avocado on toast.”

Draco kissed him, slowly, fingers in his hair. “I do, love. I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are lovely!
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lettersbyelise)!


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